


Galaxy Merger

by kingsofvariety



Category: SECHSKIES (Band), eun jiwon - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Love, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofvariety/pseuds/kingsofvariety
Summary: A fated rendezvous between Eun Jiwon and a fan (you).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> – Second-person POV  
> – Ongoing  
> – Long work  
> – Will be updated once a week or every other week.  
> – Please do not reupload entire chapters or the entire work.  
> \- Please do not reupload or post on Instagram.  
> \- This work can also be found on Tumblr and Wordpress.  
> – You may take out short quotes, but when reposting excerpts or quotes, please give proper credit by tagging @kingsofvariety on Twitter or putting Nica as the writer/author. Thank you!

It’s only been your second week at your new work, but stress has already taken its toll on you. That night, you skip  _hwesik_  and go to Han River Park instead. You sit at one of the benches and admire the contrast between the still water and ever lively city on the other side. Even at night, skyscrapers illuminate your view, a proof that time stops for no one. Couples and groups of friends pass you by, almost like an insult to your loneliness. You are reminded of the family and life you left behind to work in a different country.

With the strong wind, glooming city lights, and sudden surge of emotions, you almost haven’t the slightest idea as to what caused tears to run down your eyes. Usually, you’d quickly wipe them and compose yourself, but who could possibly care about you when you know literally no one in this big city. And so, you let the tears freely flow down your face. They’ve been yearning for an escape, anyway. 

The dazzling lights escaping from building windows and neon signs soon become orbs as saltwater fill your eyes. By then, you are already sniffling, and you try your best not to sob like a missing child. Someone sits at the other end of the bench, but you can’t be bothered to look or to tell them to go away. You discreetly wipe your face using the sleeves of your sweater – discreet, in your point of view at least. The person beside you reaches out a hand holding a pastel blue handkerchief. 

“No, it’s okay,” is your best attempt at a refusal.

“I insist. Take it,” was the reply, and for a split second, you feel less alone.

The voice you hear is too familiar to be coming from a stranger. It sounds comforting, and if you ever come back home, you imagine that this is exactly how the welcoming will sound like. The voice  _feels_ like home.

You take the handkerchief out of politeness. 

“Thank yo-,” you do not finish your sentence upon seeing whose hand you are almost touching. 

 _I must be dreaming. Or going crazy._ These words are all you can think about.

It’s Eun Jiwon. The Eun Jiwon you saw at a concert a year ago. He is now handing you a handkerchief.

He is smiling – the kind of smile that‘s out of satisfaction. It’s like saying  _I’m glad you’re accepting it._ He’s looking at a distance – at the city lights you were just admiring minutes ago – but you can feel that the smile is  _at_ you.  _For_ you, almost. 

You grab the handkerchief and slowly take it away, never once breaking your gaze. You’ve never been this close to him, but somehow, it feels like you are intruding. His eyes say that there is something wrong – like you both share the same loneliness or same heavy heart. So you keep quiet in your seat, and he keeps quiet in his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> – Second-person POV  
> – Ongoing  
> – Long work  
> – Will be updated once a week or every other week.  
> – Please do not reupload entire chapters or the entire work.  
> \- Please do not reupload or post on Instagram.  
> – You may take out short quotes, but when reposting excerpts or quotes, please give proper credit by tagging @kingsofvariety on Twitter or putting Nica as the writer/author. Thank you!

You look back to where your eyes previously were, so now, you are both looking at the same landscape. You try to gauge the atmosphere between the two of you. You try to feel him and his emotions. Something about the situation makes you hesitant to look at him again. And so you just try to take in every second and to remember how each of them feels like.

You have been a fan of Eun Jiwon ever since Sechskies reunited. And just last year, you were able to see them live for the first time. It was your first time in Seoul, and it’s not because you came as a tourist, but simply because you wanted to attend a concert. In retrospect, of course, you never thought that you’d be working in Seoul a year later and would be sitting next to Eun Jiwon as you both drown in your thoughts.

Despite being two feet apart, you can feel him breathing. You finally try to look at him but without actually turning your head towards him, so your eyes do all the work. He’s just like his usual self – the Eun Jiwon you see on shows. Quiet and reserved, but something about him is appealing. Something just draws you in.

The two of you are both very still, and the scene, completely quiet – the biggest hints that this  _is_ reality, for if it were a dream, you’d probably be exchanging numbers by now. 

You’ve always promised yourself that if by any heaven-sent chance you bump into him on your way to work or off work, you’d talk to him and well, as cliché and basic as it may sound, ask for a selfie. But it is obviously not the perfect time for that. You know that you won’t be able to forgive yourself if you disrupt his peace and quiet – one that he might have been waiting for in such a long while. 

And just before the frustration brought by the coincidence kills you, an idea crosses your mind. 

You unzip your backpack and take out your pen and planner. You absolutely hate ripping pages off of planners and books, but tonight, there’s no time to worry about the aesthetics of your trusty planner. So, you slowly and quietly rip off the last page, all while making sure you do not distract him. He doesn’t budge, so you give off a sigh of relief.

You then start writing. You gather all of the Korean words you know and put them on one corner of your brain to save for the letter you are making.

 _Hello_ , is what you right on the top-left corner of the page.

_First of all, I’d like to thank you for the handkerchief. I wasn’t expecting that anyone would notice me, but here you are._

You think of ending it there, but it just doesn’t feel right. So, you write more. 

_I’m a huge fan of yours, so believe that this encounter won’t easily fade away from my mind. I’ve been feeling lonely since I just moved here, but seeing you like this made me feel better. I don’t want to disturb you, so instead of talking to you, I just decided to write this letter. I hope that whatever is bothering you now won’t bother you again tomorrow or the next days after. We’ll always be cheering for you._

_I’d like to give you some time alone, so I’ll be leaving now. Thank you for comforting me with your presence tonight. I feel bad that I can’t do the same._

_‘Til we meet again._

You end it with your name and signature. You fold it twice, pack your stuff, and get ready to leave. Before standing up, you slowly slide your letter down the bench until it presses against his finger. He looks at you, down at the letter, and then back at you again. You let go of the paper and give him a faint smile. You quickly push yourself up and walk away.

Despite feeling better about your situation, you somehow feel heavier as well. You keep taking step after step, and your body tells you that you can’t stop and look back because there is no turning back now. This is the choice you decided to make. You decided to give him his privacy and alone time. It’s not necessarily a noble thing to do because any decent human being will do the same, but somehow, you are not satisfied. You keep thinking about him. You keep thinking about what brought him to the park. You keep thinking about his eyes – how they looked like they were longing for something.

But of course, you have no other choice but to simply wonder. You had to leave him alone, and you did the right thing.

You are probably already sixty feet away from the bench when you hear a raspy voice calling out. All your thoughts are put to rest.

“Excuse me, Miss!”

You quickly turn around thinking that you dropped something.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> – Second-person POV  
> – Ongoing  
> – Long work  
> – Will be updated once a week or every other week.  
> – Please do not reupload entire chapters or the entire work.  
> \- Please do not reupload or post on Instagram.  
> – You may take out short quotes, but when reposting excerpts or quotes, please give proper credit by tagging @kingsofvariety on Twitter or putting Nica as the writer/author. Thank you!

And as if your reality quickly dissolves into a dream, there he is – brisk-walking towards you, catching his breath with every stride he makes. He is now wearing his black mask, but you  _know_ it’s him. On his left hand is your letter. He is waving it at you.

You want to slap yourself to make sure that you did not collapse while walking and somehow managed to fall into a deep sleep, dreaming the perfect dream. But you also do not want to look like a lunatic in case this is still your reality, so you calm yourself down.

You slowly walk towards him with half of you still in disbelief. When the distance between you finally closes, he starts speaking.

“Hi,” is what he says. And he says it in English. You want to collapse into his arms, but again, you don’t want to look like you have a few loose screws.

“Hi,” is your response. It sounds like a mere breath, but the greeting is still there.

“Do you have an appointment?” He asks.

“No,” comes out of your mouth almost automatically. 

“Should we-“ he starts speaking again, but this time, almost reluctantly.

“grab something to eat?” He finishes his sentence after a two-second pause and then looks down to the ground.

The time it takes for you to respond is much longer than the pause in between his question.

“Sure! That sounds great,” you finally manage to exhale words out of your mouth.

He tilts his head in lieu of the question  _Shall we go this way?_ At that point, you become unsure as to who between the fan and the celebrity is more nervous.

You follow behind, and soon, you are walking side by side. You try your best to think of an ice-breaker, but the only words that come up are  _OH MY GOD_ (yes, in all caps) and  _Is this really happening?_

“How long have you been in Korea?” He breaks the silence since you can’t.

“Just a month,” you say, and somehow it makes you feel pitiful. “I did two weeks of training for work and been on the actual job for two weeks, too.”

“And may I know what you do?”

“I uh…” 

You are not sure if you should tell him. It’s not that you are working illegally. You just feel like you shouldn’t let him know that you are almost in the same industry. It just kind of feels awkward on your part. 

The two of you keep walking as you think about how to phrase your answer. You steal a glance only to be surprised to see that he’s looking at you while walking. His eyes are waiting for an answer. 

“I’m a…” you pause for one last time. “A scriptwriter for a radio show.”

“Really?” It’s the most excited and lively that his voice has been. His eyes even widen both in shock and child-like excitement.

“Yeah.”

He asks you more questions after that: what radio station you work for, why you applied for the job, what you like about Korea, how your stay has been so far. And you answer each one of them as honestly as you can. After being the target of a Q and A, you decide to turn the tables.

“Where are we going, by the way?”

“Oh yeah,” he lets out a short chuckle. “Sorry I forgot to tell you. There’s a restaurant that I always go to when I’m out and about. I plan on taking you there.” 

He looks at you, scanning your reaction. You’re not really big on reactions, so you just look at him. You realize you might have had a resting bitch face on because he starts speaking again.

“But if there’s a place you want to go to, maybe we can eat there?” He ends it like a question, so you answer it.

“I haven’t explored the area yet, actually. So let’s just… go with your choice?” You measure his reaction as well, so you subconsciously end your response as a question.

“Alright,” he replies. 

After what seems like a fifteen minute walk, you arrive at a restaurant. The two of you approach the counter. Behind it is a woman you guess to either be in her mid-fifties or early sixties. You can never really tell with Koreans. Most of them look so young, and the perfect example is standing right beside you. 

She welcomes the two of you with a smile that extends to both of her ears. It’s almost like how a mother smiles when her child is finally home. You look at Jiwon, and even though he has his mask on, his eyes are smiling. They know each other.

“ _Eomonim_ ,” is Jiwon’s greeting. He says it in the sweetest voice possible. You want to make that sound your ringtone. 

“ _Aigoo,_ our Jiwonnie is here.” Her voice is just as sweet, and it makes Jiwon’s eye smile grow even bigger.

She looks at you half-confused but also half-intrigued. She then turns to Jiwon and gives him a certain look.

“You’ve never brought a girl here before,” she says, almost teasingly.

“Yes, that’s right” is Jiwon’s shy response. He steals a quick glance at you and then goes back to talking with the restaurant owner.

“By any chance, do you have a vacant table?” He asks her, his voice low.

“Ey!” She exclaims. “What do you mean a vacant table? Do you really think you can eat peacefully here out in the open? You even have a girl with you! People will soon flock to your table if they see you here. It’s not like you can eat with your mask on your face.”

She is right. Absolutely right. Her restaurant is quite big, perhaps twice or thrice as big as the other restaurants and eateries you’ve been in so far. And in her massive restaurant are dozens of people. Since it’s dinner time and most people have just gotten out of work, the place is filled with office workers. For a split second, you even think that this might be the place your co-workers decided to eat at. The thought makes you want to hide and disappear. Inside your head, you repeatedly wish they aren’t here. 

“I have a vacant room,” the restaurant owner continues. “You know I always save one for you, right?” 

“Really? Thank you so much!” Jiwon sounds just like a son talking to his mom. 

She then leads the two of you to a hallway tucked in one of the corners of the restaurant. In this hallway are private dinner areas for larger groups of people. One of them is empty, and she tells the two of you to get inside. You take off your shoes and comply. 

The menu board or  _menu pan_ as they call it is already on the table. The two of you sit down.

“Just ring the bell when you’re ready to order” are the last words you hear from the restaurant owner. 

“Alright,” Jiwon lengthens the word as if hosting a  _mukbang_. He starts looking into the  _menu pan._  “What should we eat?”

You look at the dishes on the list as well. They have every Korean food that is crucial to the Korean diet and cuisine. You don’t really know what to pick. Everything looks good, so you just ask him to take the wheel.

“What’s your favorite here?”

He looks up at you and then slides his mask down to his chin. 

“I really like their  _tteokbeokki_ and  _jjajangmyeon_.”

“Let’s have those, then.”

“That’s all?” He must have been really surprised because he says this one in English. You laugh.

“Should we eat rice, then?” You say.

“Of course!”

And so, the two of you end up ordering a feast – his favorite  _tteokbeokki_ and  _jjajangmyeon, nanja wansu_ that only Jiwon orders, some  _tangsuyuk,_ and separate orders of rice as well. When your order comes, Jiwon immediately starts shoving  _jjajangmyeon_ into his mouth. You follow suit, and in a few seconds, only the sound of your slurping can be heard in the room. 

You are not used to having such a quiet meal, so you start the engine in your mind again to think of an ice-breaker. If you are to be honest with yourself, you’d like to ask him why he went to the park alone at night. You’d like to ask him about his thoughts and emotions. But you know that would be too intrusive coming from a stranger like you. So, you go for a safe, generic question instead.

“Are you busy these days?” You ask.

“Yes” is his response, but it isn’t much so as the word itself. It’s just the nasal  _eung_ sound that Koreans make, which translates to  _yes_.

“How about you?” He returns the question.

“Pretty busy, too. It’s quite stressful since we’re a new radio show, so we’re starting everything from scratch. We still haven’t found our perfect order, but hopefully things can get better when we do”

“Must be hard to work and adjust in a different country, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to treat yourself often.”

“Huh?” You are quite unsure if you understand what he means.

“The fact that you’re working hard away from home already means you’re doing a great job. You have to treat yourself well and often because of that.”

Hearing such encouraging words from him make you blush, but you try to act natural.

“Do you do the same thing, too?” You ask. “Treat yourself often?”

“Well…” his mood suddenly turns serious. “It’s not like I have enough time to do that. I guess I’ll just treat myself when I retire.”

“I’m not sure if I should encourage that,” you say. “That’s way too cruel. You, of all people, deserve to be treated well.”

“Not really,” is how he tries to close the conversation.

You want to argue with him. To tell him he’s horribly mistaken. You want to treat him right at that very moment. But arguing with him means that you’ll need to justify your sentiments, and justifying them means you’ll have to be true to your feelings. And that moment, more than having the night come to an end, you fear being seen as an obsessive fan. So you stay quiet for the time being, making him successful at ending the conversation.

After the two of you have downed all of the dishes you ordered, Jiwon proceeds to the counter to pay. You insist that you pay for your orders separately, but he still won’t let you. “Let me pay for this” is what he says. 

Upon reaching the counter, the owner tells him that there’s no need to pay. 

“Your meal is on me,” says the owner, and of course, Jiwon won’t back down.

“No,” he contends. “I will pay. I’ll pay for this.”

“You don’t have to! Just think of it as a gift.”

“What do you mean a gift? It’s not my birthday!”

You are not expecting to see Jiwon’s childish sidetonight, but of course, he doesn’t disappoint. By now, you are enjoying watching the two of them.

“Not a birthday gift, silly! A congratulatory gift!”

“What?!” Jiwon exclaims, and as a response, the restaurant owner just looks at your direction and nods. You feel yourself blush.

“It’s not what you think it is,  _eomonim._ ”

“Even if it isn’t now, that’s where you’ll go soon enough!” 

“Just take my card please,” Jiwon obviously tries to change the topic.

“I already said no!” 

By this time, the restaurant is already pushing Jiwon in her extreme refusal. She uses all her strength to shove Jiwon out of her way and into the streets. Amidst all of this, Jiwon quickly signals the part-timer and sneakily passes him his card. Jiwon gets pushed out the door and starts whining.

“Ahhhh!” He screams. “ _Eomonim!!!”_

Now, who said he’s a bad actor? 

You follow him outside and see him smirking under the blinking signboard of the restaurant. 

“Let’s just wait for my card,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

After a solid minute, the part-timer emerges out of the restaurant and hands him his card. He leaves the door open, so Jiwon takes one last look at the owner. 

“Thank you! We ate well and paid well!” 

Upon reaching the main road, he insists on taking you home. Of course, you tell him it’s okay and that you can manage alone, but a part of you wants to spend some more time with him, so you low-key hope he’ll keep on insisting. And as if the universe is suddenly all in your favor, he does, but with an apology because he doesn’t have his car with him.

“We’re going to have to take a cab, though. I didn’t bring my car, sorry.”

“It’s okay! I was planning on taking the bus, actually. But we both know you can’t take the bus.” 

“Yeah.” 

And so, the two of you wait for a cab. When one finally arrives, you hop in and give the driver your address.

“You live there?” He asks, and it surprises you that he’s taking interest.

“Yes.”

“That’s close to where I live.”

“Oh really?” You exclaim, pretending you didn’t already know. Who doesn’t know where Eun Jiwon lives? 

“Yeah. That means you’re also close to where you work, then.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Sometimes I walk from my apartment to the radio station. It’s that near.”

“That reminds me of my 2 Days 1 Night days. I lived really close to the broadcasting station.”

“And you were still always late.”

He laughs. For a second, you get a glimpse of his bunny teeth, but he quickly covers his mouth with his forearm and composes himself.

“That’s right, I was always late.”

You laugh too.

The rest of the drive is serene and quiet. You can tell Jiwon doesn’t want to talk much because the driver keeps looking at the two of you through his rear view mirror. Of course, it’s understandable that he doesn’t want to be recognized. And at that moment, you find it ridiculous how your paths have crossed. One of you doesn’t want to be seen, and the other one is dying to be seen. Two opposites sitting at that backseat of a cab, both with no idea as to what kind of baggage the other has. 

When you reach your destination, you quickly pay the driver to make sure Jiwon doesn’t. He gives you a look after seeing what you’ve done.

“Ey,” is the only sound he makes.

“Why?” is your response, acting as clueless as possible. 

After getting off the cab, you look to your building. Then, you look back at him.

“So, I guess this is goodbye,” you say.

“No, it’s not,” he replies, his tone stubborn. 

You are just about to ask him what he means when he hands you his phone – unlocked.

“Can you give me your number? Let’s add each other on Kakao, too. We’re neighbors anyway.”

There are a lot of things you want to say to him. Things like  _Oh my God you really want to add me?, Do you want us to keep in touch, Do you usually ask for your neighbors’ number?_ and  _We’re not really neighbors, though,_ but the mind-blowing situation disallows you to speak. So, you just take his phone and then hand him yours. You add yourself to his contact list. 

You look up at him and see that he’s not yet done. You grab the opportunity to just look at him. To take a proper stare. To examine him from head to toe and to feel the aura he’s giving. The scene before you is so mundane yet so arcane at the same time. He’s standing there, about two feet away from you, illuminated by a streetlight from above and your phone’s screen from underneath his chin. At that moment, he’s the greatest mystery you’ve ever known, for you just can’t comprehend how someone can look strange yet familiar and can feel so close yet so far.

When he finally finishes adding himself to your contact list, you give each other’s phones back. You check what he has done to your phone, only to see that he saved himself to your contacts as “Yeouido’s Eun Jiwon.” You snicker. 

“Goodness,” you say. He looks at you and smirks. You want to playfully hit him for that smirk. Or spank him.

“I guess you should go in now,” he finally says. “It’s getting cold.”

“Okay, will do that! Take care on your way home.”

“Alright! See you when I see you!”

You go inside the lobby of your apartment, and start running up the stairs. You want to watch him leave to make sure you see the plate number of the cab he takes just in case he doesn’t get home as safely as he should. It’s a good thing your unit is only at the third floor. You quickly go into your apartment and run towards the window facing the main road. You see him talking to a cab driver. Then, he gets in. You memorize the plate number as you blankly stare at the moving vehicle.

And just like that, he’s gone, and you’re alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wait for Eun Jiwon's first text message after your fated rendezvous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> – Second-person POV  
> – Ongoing  
> – Long work  
> – Will be updated once a week or every other week.  
> – Please do not reupload entire chapters or the entire work.  
> \- Please do not reupload or post on Instagram.  
> \- This work can also be found on Tumblr and Wordpress.  
> – You may take out short quotes, but when reposting excerpts or quotes, please give proper credit by tagging @kingsofvariety on Twitter or putting Nica as the writer/author. Thank you!

You wake up the next morning, and the first thing you do is check your phone. You are not really hoping for a good morning message from him, but you just want to make sure that you didn’t dream everything that happened that night before. You turn on your phone and quickly go to your contacts. You smile upon seeing that it’s still there – Yeouido’s Eun Jiwon.

He hasn’t sent you a message, yet, and quite frankly it’s driving you crazy. _Why would he ask for my number if he had no plans of sending a message? Should I just be the one to send a message first?_

You fight the desire to send him a message by convincing yourself that he’s busy and might not have time to talk to anyone. Additionally, it’s a Saturday, which means that the radio show you write for is airing. This only means that you have to go to the studio to participate in overseeing the show, making you a busy person, too.

However, you take your time since the show doesn’t start until eight in the evening, although you do have a meeting at six. So, after eating lunch, you stay in bed and keep looking at your phone just in case he sends a message.

When the clock strikes five o’clock, you start preparing for work. You put on two layers of clothing and top it off with the coat you just bought two weeks ago. It’s autumn in Seoul, and you haven’t quite gotten used to the cold weather just yet.

You decide to walk to the station again as a form of exercise. The sun is already setting, and the cold breeze that caresses your face reminds you of last night. You try to shake it off of your head so as not to dwell on something fleeting and temporary. You tell yourself dozens of times that you have to focus at work.

Upon reaching the station, you bow and greet all of your seniors. Since you’re the newest hire, you are still the most junior out of all the _hoobaes._ All of your workmates have been in the industry for years, and you’re the only one who is a fresh graduate.

You arrived thirty minutes early, so you sit in your desk and wait for further instructions or details about the meeting. You grab a copy of the finalized script for tonight’s show and start reading it. A few minutes later, the head scriptwriter taps on your shoulder and asks you to come to the conference room – a signal of the start of the meeting.

Once everyone has gathered, the producer greets everyone and compliments the team for a job well done on the first month of the radio show. Then, being the type of person who does not beat around the bush, he proceeds to the main subject of the meeting – upcoming projects, concepts, and guests. You take out your work notebook to take note of the upcoming concepts and guests and make sure that you can write the script flawlessly. You are just mindlessly listing down every celebrity’s name until you heard a name that is all too familiar. You stop writing and instead look at the producer to focus on what he’s saying since he seems to want to repeat the list of names.

“This one,” he says. “Take note of this one because it is going to be a special episode. We will be having a hip-hop special in five weeks. The tentative list, again, includes rappers like Song Minho, Simon Dominic, Loco, Jessi, Jay Park, and Eun Jiwon.”

That’s it. The name you heard earlier. Now, it’s louder and clearer. An electric shock runs through your spine, but you’re just not quite sure if it’s because of excitement or anxiety. More concepts and guests are announced, but you do not really attentively listen to the producer anymore. All you can think about is Jiwon, what happened last night, and what could happen in five weeks in case he does guest on your show.

After the meeting, you move on to your next task aside from writing scripts – greeting guests and giving them a pep talk as to what happens during the show. Tonight, you have an entire idol group in front of you – a rookie group doing promotions for their debut song. Two members are foreigners, so they receive the pep talk in English. All of them, however, give you a smile and a bow after your explanation.

The rest of the night passes by steadily. The episode goes smoothly, and you receive tons of messages from listeners and viewers – a sign that the show is doing well. After the show, the head scriptwriter invites everyone to a _hwesik_ to which you gladly comply. You said no last night, so you feel obliged to tag along this time.

You and your team soon arrive at a _noraebang._ Your workmates all order alcohol, but being a health-conscious being, you only order a plate of _jjajangmyeon_ and some snacks. It’s a good thing that none of them pressure you into drinking.

Five minutes after your arrival and one of the sound engineers you are with already starts belting out a Kim Bum Soo song. You can’t even imagine what will happen if he gets drunk. When your “turn” to sing comes up, you shyly sing Sechskies’ Couple. You know you are not a good singer, so you just try your best to engage with your audience every time you reach the chorus. They all gladly oblige, and hearing everyone sing the “Oh love” part is music to your ears.

Your night ends at midnight, and being the only sober one in your group, you make sure that everybody takes a cab that can safely send them home. After acting the mother, you start your twenty-minute walk to your apartment. As you take a stroll, you clutch your phone in your hand, still waiting for a text message that may or may not come. You convince yourself again that he might be busy, but you check his Instagram anyway in case you missed out on a post or story notification. After seeing nothing, you are fully convinced that he is working.

Upon reaching your apartment, you throw yourself onto your bed and just close your eyes. Your exhaustion swallows you whole, and the next time you open your eyes, it’s already Sunday morning.

Sunday is a drag, but since it’s uneventful, you do not even remember a single thing from it. The only memory you have is you staying at home, but you can’t recall the activities that you’ve done. There’s no message from him either.

You welcome the new week with a new heart. By Monday, you start working on a new script, so work becomes busy again. From Monday ‘til Wednesday, you regularly check your phone in case your most awaited message comes, but by Thursday, you have already given up. You persuade yourself into believing that he has already forgotten about you. Who knows? He might have been drunk that entire Friday night, and you might have just been oblivious to it.

Your mind and entire life have been occupied by work responsibilities that week. So, you do not say no when another _hwesik_ is proposed after the episode on Saturday night. It’s just like the last week, though. You and your workmates at a _noraebang,_ eating, singing, and dancing as if all of you had nothing to worry about; but you know better than that. You know that everyone’s just trying to sing, dance, and drink away the loneliness that starts to creep up on you when your work-filled week ends.

You allow yourself to be engulfed by the music coming out from the karaoke machine mixed with the drunken voice of your head scriptwriter. You munch on some _tteokbeokki_ as you watch the people around you have the time of their lives – something they do every Friday and Saturday, apparently.

The next song is Super Junior’s “Sorry, Sorry,” and it will be sung by your camera man. Just as you are about to stand up to dance with your workmates, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You’re not really expecting a message from anybody, so you quickly take it out thinking that it might be something urgent. Upon pressing your phone’s power button, you almost do not believe what you see. Shining brightly on your lockscreen is a notification from Kakao talk. The sender’s name reads:

Yeouido’s Eun Jiwon


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You read Eun Jiwon's first message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> – Second-person POV  
> – Ongoing  
> – Long work  
> – Will be updated once a week or every other week.  
> – Please do not reupload entire chapters or the entire work.  
> \- Please do not reupload or post on Instagram.  
> \- This work can also be found on Tumblr and Wordpress.  
> – You may take out short quotes, but when reposting excerpts or quotes, please give proper credit by tagging @kingsofvariety on Twitter or putting Nica as the writer/author. Thank you!

You feel your heart racing as you see the name of the message’s sender. You excuse yourself from your co-workers and go outside the _noraebang_ room to make sure no one peeks into your phone. You stay there at the hallway of the _noraebang_ and take a deep breath before pressing on the notification. It reads:

Hi. Are you busy right now?

You feel your stomach crumple as if your intestines have tied into a tight knot. You carefully think of what to reply, and after quite some time pondering, you settle with a simple “Not really. Just in a _hwesik_ ” response.

You don’t go back to your _noraebang_ room in case he replies instantly, so you anxiously wait for his response while leaning on the wall. You tell yourself that if he does not reply in five minutes, you’d go back to avoid interrogation; but, it hasn’t even been a minute yet when your phone starts vibrating.

Do you have time after your _hwesik?_

You get so excited after seeing his reply that you even hear yourself grinning and giggling like a lunatic in a dimly lit _noraebang_ hallway. _What an unexpected place to feel butterflies,_ you think to yourself.

You want so badly to say “Of course I do,” but you don’t want to appear too desperate and enthusiastic, so you reply with a simple “Yes” but with a smiling emoji to appear less rude.

Okay, I’ll go to you in an hour.

You go back to the _noraebang_ room with a huge smile on your face, and luckily, everyone is dancing to a girl group song, so you remain unnoticed. You act as if nothing had happened, go back to your seat, and start shoving _tteokbeokki_ into your mouth.

You wish so badly for time to move more quickly, and when your co-workers finally get too drunk to sit upright for more than two minutes, you suggest that you part ways. They agree with their drunken nods, and as you exit the _noraebang_ building, you see a man looking at you from right across the street. There is no light in that area, but you don’t need to see his face to know that it’s him. His hoodie, sweatpants, mask, and posture all scream Eun Jiwon, anyway.

You pretend not to see him so as not to raise suspicion and wait with your co-workers until they all get a cab that can take them home. When the last person finally gets into a cab, you cross the street and shyly say hello.

“Have you been well?” he asks after your polite greeting.

“Yes, I have? And you?”

“Quite busy, but doing okay.”

“Good to hear,” you say truthfully.

“Should we go to a coffee shop, or is there any particular place you want to go to?”

You never really expected that Jiwon would ever want to spend time at a coffee shop, so you just agree with his proposal. He has his car with him this time, so you take the passenger’s seat and let him drive. You want so badly to just watch him drive the entire time, but you know that’d be creepy as hell since it’s only your second meeting, so you look out the window instead.

“Looks like you enjoy _hwesik_ , huh?” he finally breaks the silence. You snicker.

“Not necessarily,” you begin your statement. “I just feel like I have to go.”

“Do they pressure you?” When he asks this question this time, he takes his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance at you. You look at him too before you respond.

“Not really. I think I just feel the pressure without anyone actually pressuring me.”

Jiwon smirks. That kind of smirk he does whenever he is on shows. It’s the kind of smirk that’s borderline snicker, and you hate it. You love it so much that you hate it, too.

“So, you’re introverted,” he says. “Me too.”

“Yeah. Introvert problems.”

It doesn’t take long for you two to reach a coffee shop. You can tell Jiwon has been there dozens of times because he knows exactly where to park and where to place his order. You follow him to the counter like a kid clinging onto an adult.

“What do you want?” he asks. “Do you need an Americano to sober up?” His tone is obviously full of mischief.

“I am not drunk,” you say slowly, emphasizing each word.

“Okay, so Americano it is?” The two of you snicker at each other.

“I actually don’t drink Americano, so I guess I’ll have a latte” was your honest reply.

He looks at you as if you have just told him that you’re hiding a body in your fridge.

“What is it?” you ask.

“You—- you don’t drink Americano? Why?”

“Are you judging me?” you answer back, playfully.

“No, I’m just – I’m just curious.”

“I don’t like my coffee bitter.”

You realize that you are too honest again this time and worry that you might have sounded like a child. You look at him to study his reaction.

“Oh” was his initial reaction followed by “yeah, that can happen, too.”

He proceeds to go nearer the cashier and orders himself an Americano. Before you get to tell him that you’ll order your latte separately, he has already added it to his orders together with a cheesecake for sharing.

You heart stops beating upon hearing the phrase “for sharing.” How could you possibly enjoy a cheesecake if you’re going to be sharing the plate with him? All you can think about is how your hand might tremble and how you might drop pieces of cake all over the table.

After placing your order, Jiwon motions for you to come follow him. He picks a spot at the farthest corner of the coffee shop, probably because he doesn’t want any attention drawn to the two of you. It’s understandable knowing how popular he is in Korea.

 “How’s work?” he asks, and the anxious soul inside of you wonders if he really is interested in your life or if it’s just his way of making it seem like he’s interested.

“Well, it’s pretty much the same thing each week,” you respond. “It’s just that the kind of content we produce differs depending on the guests and concepts.”

Upon finishing your statement, you are suddenly reminded of how the main producer mentioned Jiwon’s name as one of the guests for a future episode. You want to ask him if he knows about it, but everything you do at work should be kept confidential, so in the end, you follow the professional voice in your head and don’t say a word about his guesting.

“I actually heard from my manager that I might appear on your radio show,” he says, slowly, and almost like a whisper.

Was he reading your mind?

“Oh,” was your reaction by default. “So you know about that?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be a hip-hop special of some sort, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I have been told so far.”

“I see.”

“I look forward to that,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You don’t understand why he’ll look forward to a radio guesting when he has done it tons of times.

“Why?” you ask

“So I can see you in your natural habitat.”

“What natural habitat?!” you respond with laughter erupting in between your words.

“Isn’t your workplace your natural habitat? You spend most of your days there!”

“Well…” is all you can say since the server seems to appear out of nowhere, carrying all of your orders at once.

“Thank you,” you both say in unison.

“Let’s dig in!” Jiwon invites.

He doesn’t ask any more questions about his upcoming radio guesting, and of course there’s no surprise in that. You’ve always thought that he is just like that in person – very cautious when it comes to the questions and words he drops. Someone who never crosses the line and never asks for too much. And you like him like that.

For the first five or so minutes after receiving your order, you keep yourself busy by sipping your iced latte. He seems bothered by it because it doesn’t take long for him to break the silence.

“Why aren’t you having cheesecake?” he finally asks.

If you are to be completely honest, you’d say that it’s because he’s currently digging into it, and you don’t want to interrupt or take a spoonful as he also takes one because that will look like a movie scene in your head, and imagining it like that might give you a heart attack. But of course, you can’t be too honest, so you quickly think of an excuse.

“I’m not really into sweets,” a half truth, half lie.

“It’s not that sweet!” He asserts. “Try it. Hurry!”

The way he says hurry lets you know that he _wants_ to share it with you. So, to avoid frustrating him, you quickly take a spoonful and then shove it into your mouth. You nod as you bite.

“See? I told you!” He says, his voice brimming with pride, somehow. “Have some more.” He pushes the plate towards you, so of course, you can’t refuse anymore. Otherwise, that will be really rude.

Once the two of you finish the cheesecake, you go back to sipping your iced latte, and him, his iced Americano. He seems a bit anxious as he keeps looking around and lowering his head.

“It’s quite frustrating that you can’t drink coffee with a mask on, isn’t it?” you say, which is your best attempt at making a joke and lightening up the mood.

“I know right!” he responds, his eyes wide open. “Would be great if they invent a mask with a small hole just in front of the lips so I can sip my coffee while remaining lowkey.”

You laugh. And for a second, your laugh resonates inside the entire café, but after becoming aware, you cover your mouth and stop yourself from laughing too hard.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, which you find ridiculous because he himself was chuckling too.

“I imagined it in my head and it is very… weird.”

“It’s okay to be weird like that,” Jiwon defends. “At least no one will know who you are because you still have a mask on.”

“You really are something else,” you say, and just as he’s about to refute, his phone rings.

He takes it out of his pocket and answers. You watch him closely to see if he’s receiving good news or bad news. You don’t want to be too nosy and ask him about it after the call, so you decide to rely on your observation for answers.

He doesn’t really say much. In fact, he doesn’t say anything aside from “okay,” which he repeatedly says with intervals of a few seconds. When the call is about to end, he says “Okay, I got it” and by that time, you pretend to be busy sipping your iced latte.

“It’s my manager,” he says as he grabs his iced Americano. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go now.”

“It’s okay, really. No need to apologize,” you reassure him as you grab your bag and coffee, too.

You both stand up and start to walk.

“I’ll take you home,” he says.

“No, it’s okay,” is your response. Out of habit.

Quite honestly, it’s been your habit to decline anything that can bother another person. You don’t feel comfortable when people spend too much time and effort on you.

“You might end up being late to your schedule,” you add.

“No, I’ll take you home,” Jiwon insists. “I’m always late anyway…” there is a pause as he walks out the door. “And besides, it’s not even on my schedule. It’s just an emergency meeting.”

“Oh,” is all you can say since you’re afraid of crossing the line.

Jiwon quickly walks towards his car and motions for you to hop in. You obey as if you weren’t insisting just a while ago that there’s no need for him to take you home.

When you get into his car, you expect him to be even just the tiniest bit worried or anxious about being late. You even expect him to drive faster than when you were on your way to the coffee shop. But that is not the case. He is still as relaxed as ever. There’s not even a sign of urgency in his eyes. And being the panicky girl that you are, you admire him even more for that.

After studying him for a short while, you look out the window again to not creep him out. You’ve always loved car rides ever since you were a child, and you never knew you can love it even more until tonight. There’s something about his presence that makes car rides feel safer and more peaceful. It’s almost as if you can go anywhere, be anywhere, and you’d be completely fine despite the pool of uncertainty that comes with it. You want to look at him and watch him beside you, but since you can’t do that, you just immerse yourself with his presence. And that’s when you realize that his presence is stronger than anyone else’s. Or perhaps that’s how it feels like when you’ve longed for the presence that keeps you company.

Upon reaching your apartment, he parks at the side of the road. You say thank you twice and then take off your seatbelt. But just as when you’re about to open the car door, he speaks.

“You’re not busy tomorrow, right?”

“Huh?” is your response, which also translates to _did I hear it right? You’re asking me if I’m not busy tomorrow?_

“It’s a Sunday, and you don’t have work!” he says.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 10 in the morning.”

“Huh?” you say again, and this time, too, its translation remains the same.

“I’m free the whole day tomorrow, so I’ll tour you around to make you feel like a tourist once and not just a person who migrated to work.”

You do not answer. You freeze in your seat. You don’t know what to do. Like the first time you met him, you want to slap yourself again to make sure that everything is still real. All sorts of thoughts run through your head for what seems like an eternity. When you snap back, you see him still looking at you, waiting for a response.

“You have somewhere to go to tomorrow?” he asks.

“No,” you respond, this time, quickly. “10am is fine.”

“Okay, then!” he says, and his cheerful tone is too much for you to handle. It’s almost as if he is more excited than you are. “Good night!”

“Good night!”

You hop off the passenger’s seat and watch him drive away. When he is out of sight, you begin making your way to your apartment’s lobby. You walk on the lines of the tiles to make sure that you can walk straight and are not actually drunk. You succeed, which means that you’ll be meeting him again in the morning.


End file.
